A Rake for All Seasons: A Regency and Victorian Romance Boxset
Page 50
Straightening his necktie, he combed and pomaded his hair. Today was to be the pinnacle of his career. The day he proved all the naysayers wrong. And yet the achievement was nothing without Ivy by his side. He longed for her to see what he had built. In all likelihood, she would someday. Perhaps when she rode a train through it she would look back and think of him. But she wouldn’t be sitting next to him. Maybe she would sit next to another man—one with no commitments or children.
He scowled at his reflection. That thought wasn’t pleasant. What a bloody fool he was, torturing himself like this.
Making his way downstairs to the dining room, he nearly crashed into Mrs Cartwright who was holding Elsie and... He stared at her for a moment. Was she singing? It wasn’t the most pleasant of sounds but he didn’t think his housekeeper was capable of anything other than barking orders and the occasional complaint.
The woman stilled and pursed her lips. “Good morning, sir.”
“Good morning, Mrs Cartwright. Is all well?”
“Of course. I was just getting Elsie some breakfast.”
“Excellent.”
August tried not to marvel at the way his housekeeper’s attitude towards the child had changed as she’d grown older. Or perhaps it was Ivy’s influence. Either way, Mrs Cartwright had volunteered to look after Elsie so Ivy could go to her audition. Just for one day, mind. She had made that particularly clear. He certainly shouldn’t be holding out any hopes of Mrs Cartwright taking on Ivy’s duties once she was gone.
He sipped some hot coffee and forced himself to eat a little haddock but he had no appetite. As the housekeeper carried Elsie out of the room, he called to her, “Has Ivy—Miss Davis—breakfasted already?”
“No, sir. She said she wasn’t hungry. I believe she is putting the finishing touches to her hair.”
When he patted his jacket pocket, he cursed. Damnation, he wished he had some bloody cigarettes right now. That would take the edge off. Giving up on breakfast, he shoved away from the table and straightened his jacket. The day was clear and bright so he wouldn’t need a day coat. By the time he heard Ivy’s footfalls on the top of the stairs, he was ready and itching to go. He tapped his foot as she made her way down the steps and willed himself to keep his expression straight.
Master and governess.
He’d failed to remember that recently but he had to remember that now. He had no hold over her, no say in her life. Soon he’d read about her in newspapers and watch her from afar. And at least he could say he helped her achieve that dream, even if he could only claim the smallest credit. She thought he’d helped her get over her stage fright but, in reality, she had done all the work. He only hoped it didn’t return.
“Are you ready?”
Ivy smiled at him from under the brim of her hat. The brim was so wide, he could barely see her eyes but he thought he detected a hollow cast to her expression. Dark eyes that were normally twinkling and lively appeared dull. Surely she could not feel as empty and as aching as he?
He could crack so easily. His knees practically shook with the need to fall to them and beg her to stay. Inwardly, he snorted. Who’d have thought anyone could bring him to his knees? August Avery had thrived in a world that wanted him to fail and yet this vibrant young thing had almost crippled him.
In lieu of being able to touch her, hold her, kiss her, he tweaked the purple satin ribbon under her chin. The hat was hardly to his taste but what did he know about them? It would certainly draw attention with it’s a large ruffles and feathers and suchlike.
“Will I do?” she asked breathlessly.
“Indeed.” He was tempted to leave it there but uncertainty haunted her gaze. “You are magnificent.”
Her lips quirked. “Well, that sounds a little excessive but that will do. Is the carriage waiting?”
He nodded. “Yes, time to go.”
Mrs Cartwright and Elsie came to the door to see them off. He helped Ivy into the carriage and gave a little wave, his heart clenching when Elsie did her best imitation of a wave. The child would miss Ivy just as much as he.
The carriage gave a rock as he settled and he tapped the roof to signal to leave. He remained rigid in his seat, too aware of the woman next to him and how he longed to draw her into his arms and kiss her until she promised to stay with him forever.
Then her gloved fingers slipped into his. He glanced her way.
“What is it?”
“I’m scared, August.”
Scared? So was he. Terrified even. Terrified he was making the biggest mistake of his life by letting her go. But what if he did beg and she agreed to stay? Then what? How could he live with himself for destroying her dreams? He’d achieved his. This tunnel would be testament to all he’d achieved in his life. But Ivy... she was still young and had much to learn about the world. God forbid he hold her back from the sort of life she could lead with a voice like hers.
“Scared of what?”
“What if I freeze again? What if I cannot sing a note?”
“You can. You will.” He drew her fingers up to his lips and pressed kisses to the cotton. He wished he was pressing them to flesh but it would have to do. “I have every confidence in you, Ivy.”
“But without you there...”
“You don’t need me, Ivy.” Not anymore. “You can do this.”
She nodded slowly and offered a wavery smile. Her fingers curled tightly around his and she turned her head to the window. In that moment, he wished for the ability to read her mind. He’d never really been interested in what women thought before and Ivy was usually so open but today... He wanted to sweep his hands over the rigid set of her shoulders and wash away any of her worries, but he couldn’t. He had enough of his own.
They journeyed in silence with only the clatter of wheels and the creak of springs for company. When they arrived at the train station, he drew out his pocket watch and breathed a sigh of relief. They had time—just. Ivy wouldn’t be able to delay which meant no lengthy goodbyes. He’d see her that evening anyway, but everything would be different by then.
August climbed out and aided her down. The streets were busy with carriages so he signalled the driver to move on quickly and they hastened into the station. Smoke billowed about the platforms and the scent of burning coal imbued the air. He purchased their tickets, thrust one at Ivy and guided her to the bottom of the bridge that spanned the station.
He studied her only briefly. Nerves but also the excitement there. The little hint of sparkle to her gaze told him he was doing the right thing. There was the vibrancy he’d come to expect from her, making her glow. Her beauty at this moment would be forever imprinted in his mind.
“Go now, or you’ll be late,” he urged her.
She nodded, tucked her lip under her teeth and hesitated. There could be no passionate kiss goodbye, not even a tender embrace. Not here with people around. Their affair was nothing but an illicit liaison here, and he had stepped across boundaries no employer should.
August couldn’t bring himself to regret it.
Ivy touched him—the briefest touch of her gloved hand to his arm—and then she was gone. The temptation to watch her go ate into his gut but he forced himself to turn away and headed towards platform one. He apologised to the gentleman he nearly knocked over as he moved blindly through the gate.
A train already sat on the middle platform and blocked his view of Ivy’s platform. A fine job indeed or else he’d have to watch her board and leave his life. August shook his head to himself and took up a spot to watch for his train. When had he become so melodramatic? He would see her tonight—the chances were they would have more time together before she had to leave.
He allowed himself a twisted smile. Reason and rationale—that’s what guided him. But not anymore, it seemed. What had that woman done to him?
Chapter Twenty-One
Ivy stared at her boots as they peeked out from under her skirts. Their polished tips gleamed up at her. Then she turned her attention to
a tiny loose strand on her sleeve. Oh dear, she hoped no one noticed. She’d tried so hard to look her best today.
Nerves swirled in her stomach and she resisted the urge to stand on her tiptoes to get a view over the train that sat in the middle station. She wouldn’t be able to see him but she wanted to. She ached for his touch, for his soothing presence. Could she even do this alone? Did she want to?
For so long this had been her dream but now... That dream had changed. She wanted more than just fame and fortune, more than just to be able to sing. She sighed. She wanted August.
And he wanted her to leave. She was a minor distraction, that was all.
Pain throbbed in her chest and she drew up her chin. She would not cry, she would not...
“Miss Davis.”
Ivy jerked her head to the side and suppressed a groan. “Mrs Pepperwhite, how nice to see you.”
The woman offered a thin smile. “How are you, Miss Davis? I haven’t seen you since your dramatic performance.”
Her words dripped with disdain, leaving her in no doubt Mrs Pepperwhite thought her fainting fit to be just that—a performance. The drama it had caused had created quite the interest in her. Really, she couldn’t have planned it better but the memories still caused her cheeks to heat.
“I’ve been very busy. Are you going to Sheffield?” she asked in a bid to distract the woman from any more talk of that night. Whilst it might have been one of the most humiliating nights of her life, it was also one of the best. After all, August had made love to her that night.
She tried not to smile at the idea of telling Mrs Pepperwhite exactly how well August had taken care of her. The woman would probably have a fainting fit of her own should Ivy utter such words. It was really quite tempting so she pressed her lips together and waited for the older woman to respond.
“I’m visiting my sister. What of you, Miss Davis?”
It’s none of your business. She didn’t say as much of course. Instead Ivy smiled sweetly. “I am going to an audition.”
“An audition?”
She supposed she would have been better off saying she was going to climb to the top of the station building, strip naked and do a dance. That would likely garner more approval than the idea of performing on stage.
“Yes, at a theatre. They are after singers for evening performances.”
“Well, goodness.”
Mrs Pepperwhite even went as far as to take a step back, lest Ivy’s immoral ways somehow rub off on her, she suspected.
“I had heard that you would be leaving soon.”
Ivy narrowed her gaze at the woman. From whom? she wondered. She supposed Mrs Cartwright or Tilly could have said something. And did she detect a note of glee in her tone? Likely Mrs Pepperwhite would see her leaving as a chance to slip into August’s life. Goodness, August wouldn’t let her into his life would he? Surely not. But then, he would need a new nursemaid or worse—a wife.
She shuddered at the thought of Mrs Pepperwhite taking her place. She couldn’t give Elsie the love she needed or August the understanding and care he required.
“My maid tells me he is talking of sending the child to that cousin of his,” the woman continued.
Ivy snapped her attention fully to her. “Pardon?”
“Yes, that cousin in America? It’s too much for a man to look after a baby on his own and he cannot very well have nursemaid after nursemaid traipsing through the house, not when he is such a busy man. I think he should have sent the child off in the first place.”
Ivy swore. Aloud. And at that moment the train drew into the station, smothering her words. Whether Mrs Pepperwhite caught them or not, she did not know, but anger and fear tore through her like the needle-like claws of a cat, scratching at her insides, and she cared little for what the spiteful woman thought of her.
Passengers exited the carriage with a clatter of doors and the conductor called the stop. Around her was a whirl of movement. Luggage, canes, swishing skirts. Heat seared through her skull. He wouldn’t, surely? Her eyes felt hot too.
But Mrs Pepperwhite was right. He didn’t have time to look after Elsie on his own and it would be detrimental to her to have different people looking after her all the time. What if he thought it best Elsie had a stable mother figure? He had not said anything about hearing from this cousin but then, what business was it of hers?
She glanced around and saw Mrs Pepperwhite climb into the carriage. The whistle blew for the last passengers. She looked up the line and back to the carriage, her heart pounding in her chest like a drum. The woman scowled at her.
“Are you not getting on?”
For many moments, she stared at Mrs Pepperwhite and her bright blue hat while its feathers bobbed about in the breeze of the open door. Ivy shook her head.
“No.” She shook her head again. “No, I’m at the wrong station.”
Hand to her skirts, she swivelled away and pushed past the flow of last-minute passengers. She muttered apologies and stomped on a few toes, some on purpose, as she battled her way through. Racing up the steps, she stopped halfway across the bridge to search out August. His train was there. She didn’t think it was meant to leave until after hers but she couldn’t see him and that sent a surge of panic coursing through her.
The wooden bridge clattered under her feet and she hastened down the other side and pushed through the iron gate to the platform, waving her ticket to a ticket inspector.
She scanned the platform and saw no sign of his broad shoulders. He must have boarded already. Ivy hurriedly moved down the side of the first class carriage, staring into each window. The train wasn’t as busy as hers, thank goodness, but then few people would be travelling to the small stops before the tunnel and only those interested in the opening would be going further.
Breaths coming quickly, she came to the end of the train and let out a cry of dismay. Where was he? Had she missed him? She turned and considered doing another search when a head thrust out of one of the opened doors and he called her name.
“August!” She hurried over to him.
He scowled at her. “Whatever is the matter? Why aren’t you on the train?” The conductor blew his whistle and his frown deepened. “Ivy?”
She considered the man going along the train and ensuring the doors were shut and then the man was in front of her. Then she stepped inside, drawing the door shut behind her. The carriage was empty much to her relief.
“Ivy, you’re going to miss your train.”
She gripped his arms. “I don’t care. August, is it true?”
He put his hand to the railing above and stared at her. “Is what true?”
“You’re going to send Elsie away?”
The shrill screech of the train whistle blew and the carriage rocked forwards. She gripped August’s arm to keep from falling backwards and he hooked his spare arm around her waist. He left her breathless.
Each hard inch of him pressed at her through her gown. Heat sizzled through her body and gathered low down. But more than that, a deep longing for him lodged in her chest. It was stronger than anything she’d experienced before and far greater than her need to sing.
“Damn it, Ivy, you’ve missed your train. What were you thinking?”
He released her slowly and she eased back onto the seat. Disappointment almost sent her heart sinking to her toes. “You are sending her away then?”
Pinching the bridge of his nose, he eyed her over his hand. “Whatever do you mean?”
“Mrs...” She drew in a breath. “Mrs Pepperwhite said you intended to send Elsie to America once I left.”
“Mrs Pepper—” he spluttered. “Haven’t you learned not to listen to a word that woman says?”
Ivy sank farther into the chair. “So it isn’t true?”
“Of course not. I received a returned letter from my cousin last week. I don’t even have the right address for her at present.”
“And if you do find the right address?”
“I still will not
be sending Elsie away. How could you think that?”
Tears bit into the corners of her eyes. “You’re sending me away.” Her voice sounded like it would shatter with the lightest of touches.
His hand dropped from his face and he leaned forwards. “I am not sending you away.”
“Yes, you are.” Wonderful, now she sounded petulant. “You want me to go to this audition so you can be rid of me.”
Shaking his head, he reached for her hands and drew them into his. Even through her gloves, warmth suffused through her and made her skin prickle.
“Ivy, if I could keep you forever I would.”
She let her brows furrow. “But...”
“You deserve to sing. You deserve to be able to share your gift with the world.”
“I cannot do it without you, August.”
“I cannot support you the way you need. I have Elsie and my work. You will be travelling the world and meeting fascinating people. We shall hold little interest to you soon enough.”
“How can you say that? August, I—”
A bang echoed through the air, followed by the ground shaking. Ivy gripped the seat beneath her and saw horror overcome August’s expression as the carriage lurched and wheels screeched.
He lunged for her as the world seemed to tilt. She ended up wrapped in his embrace. His arms created a barrier around her while the sound of metal jarring and crashing rang in her ears. Glass shattered across her and something hard struck her side. Then all fell silent.
It took her a few moments to realise she was on her side. Ivy lifted her head from the warm protection of August’s chest and peered around. They were lying on the carriage door. Fragments of glass dusted August’s shoulders and sunlight gleamed in through the door that was now like an odd sort of roof.
“What happened?” she asked tremulously.
August groaned and lifted his head. Something wet dripped on her face and she tried to swipe it away but she was completely enveloped in his body and her arms were pinned to her sides.
“Oh God, August, you’re bleeding.” She tried to wriggle free.